Crazy in Love (Lovestruck Series) (9 page)

“You’re not the first girl to ask for a certain type of extra credit,” I tell her. And when her eyes widen and mouth falls open, I rush to explain. “But I swear you’re the first I’ve taken up on it.”

“Why me?” she asks softly like she couldn’t fathom why a man would compromise his job for the possibility to touch her, all while she stands before me in the biggest cocktease outfit I’ve ever seen.

“Because I’ve wanted you for a very long time, since before you sat your beautiful ass down in my classroom and I found out your name,” I admit, reaching an arm around to the small of her back to pull her curvy body against mine.

“Really?” she blinks shyly up at me and asks, her voice sounding hopefully. Her lips are parted and only a breath away from mine.

“Yes. And so when you…offered up yourself, I couldn’t refuse.”

“So, does this mean you’re gonna take my virginity?” she asks, winding her arms around my neck to press her braless breasts against my chest.

“Yes,” I say without thinking. “I mean, no, not yet. You don’t expect me to just turn around and fuck you on my desk your first time, do you?”

“Please, Gage,” she leans in to whisper in my ear, her warm breath and plea making me groan and my entire body shudder.

“No, not yet,” I tell her, contradicting my raging lust’s demand to do just that.

“But I need you,” she says rubbing a hand down my stomach, heading toward my still sleeping cock. I’m not the young man I used to be, and the rebound period takes longer than I like. There’s no way I’m gonna admit to her that I can’t make love to her at this particular moment, even if it was an ideal setting for taking a girl’s virginity. Although, I can give her some relief accomplishing another fantasy I’ve had for a long time.

“Climb on my desk,” I order, yanking her by her waist over to the wooden structure.

“What?” she asks. “Like sit on it?”

“No, climb on top of it.”

Spinning her around so that she’s facing the desk, I flip up the back of her skirt, revealing her incredible bare ass to me. When she hesitates, I caress her right cheek with my palm before I haul back and slap it, making Reagan jump and squeak out in surprise.

“Hands and knees on the desk,” I tell her.

She finally places a knee up and climbs on top of the papers and books I have spread out. Before she can figure out what I plan to do, I spread her ass cheeks and run my tongue all the way down her crease.

“Oh my God!” she cries out. And if I weren’t worried about someone overhearing, I would encourage her loud, appreciative moans. As it is, I’m putting myself in enough shit that will likely bite me in the ass, so I walk around to the front of the desk with an idea to keep her quiet. Reagan starts to back off of it, but I grab her wrist, holding her in place.

“Stay and open your mouth,” I tell her, and she quickly obeys, which I fucking love.

Pulling open the top desk drawer, I remove the purple panties she was wearing yesterday and left on my floor, ball them up and stuff them in Reagan’s waiting mouth. Her eyes widen in shock that I would do such a thing. Of course, she could easily reach up to remove them, but she doesn’t. She nods, telling she understands that she needs to keep quiet, so I move back around behind her raised ass to resume fucking her with my tongue.

…

Reagan

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.

That seems to be all my brain is capable of repeating as heat encompasses my body and my lower belly spasms because of the wet strokes of Professor Daughton’s, I mean, Gage’s tongue expertly navigating the most sensitive, wonderful places between my thighs. Oh yeah, and my panties are in my mouth to keep me from screaming. Even still, I keep hearing these foreign sounds, like a donkey being murdered, and I’m pretty sure that’s my own muffled moans.

The pressure builds until I’m certain I can’t take anymore and try to crawl away. Gage only tugs me back to his mouth with his strong hands wrapped around my upper thighs, spreading my legs wider for him. As if the position I’m in isn’t obscene enough. If I could speak, I’m not sure if I would beg him to stop or go faster.

Like he knows what I’m thinking, the tip of his tongue flicks faster over my clit until I burst wide open, my body seizing and convulsing, my hips rocking on their own, and I’m unable to stop them because it feels too fucking good.

As my tense muscles begins to relax again, I can no longer hold myself up. My arms collapse on the desk, and I rest my cheek on my forearm, ass still raised in the air as I gasp for breath through my nose. The embarrassment of what just happened starts breaking through the clouds right as Gage’s long finger strokes through the wetness he just created before pressing up and into my still spasming pussy. And cue the donkey sounds as my hips resume their rhythm and my inner walls clench his finger, wishing it was something more substantial, like his cock I just had in my mouth. Throw in a few more strokes of his magical tongue on my clit and I’m done for.

After my second orgasm, Gage finally removes his mouth from my sensitive flesh. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved. I’m too sated to even be ashamed of what we just did when he walks around to stand in front of me and removes the panties from my mouth.

“You okay?” he asks with a smug smile.

“Uh-huh,” I reply still face down on his desk, ass in the air. “I hope none of these papers are important.” My sweat and…other bodily fluids are drenching the documents, whatever they are.

Gage chuckles. “Just my notes,” he says. “When you’re recovered. I’d like to start our first lesson.”

“Lesson?” I ask.

He opens up his laptop to my left while I push myself up and slip off the top of his desk. While he’s somewhat distracted, I grab some tissues from the dispenser and try to clean up a little of the dampness between my thighs.

“Ready?” he asks, taking a seat in his big, black leather chair and patting the top of his lap.

“Ah, what?” I ask, disposing of my handful of tissues in the trash bin, and slipping on my panties from yesterday. Better than none if he wants me to sit on his lap.

“Tell me what areas you need some instruction on, and we’ll go through it,” he says coolly back in professor mode, acting as if we didn’t just have our mouths on each other’s privates moments before.

“Um, okay,” I agree. Taking a deep calming breath, I let it out, trying to forget those vivid images of a few minutes earlier and concentrate on social media instead.

Doing as he asked, I walk around and sit on his lap, which is not professorly at all, especially when he wraps an arm around my waist and kisses the side of my face sweetly. Using his free hand, he starts moving the wireless mouse around on the top of the desk and clicking on icons. Within seconds we’re looking at my slackass Facebook page I made just a few weeks ago. The one that has just ten likes, my mom, Josie, and eight other friends and family members.

“The first problem here is that there’s no picture of your beautiful face,” Gage says, using the pointer to show me the profile picture box with the standard white flag placeholder. “Your fans need to see who you are.” His hand disappears, and then his phone is in my face, snapping a picture.

“Whoa!” I complain, trying to stand up from his lap, but his arm around my waist holds me down. “I look horrible after…after what we just did.”

“You look stunning as always,” he says, showing me the photo. “Maybe better since I know I’m the one who put the rosy glow on your cheeks and tousled your hair while you were on your knees.”

Reaching for a cord, he plugs his phone into the laptop. “Now log in to your account, and we’ll get to work on it.”

Leaning forward, I start putting in my email address and password. It’s not as easy as usual to remember how to type because Gage’s palm cups and caresses my bottom the whole time. It takes at least three tries to correctly put in “daddysgirl.” Once it’s done, I sit back down on his lap and try to concentrate like a good little pupil.

“Your last post was over a week ago, and all you did was share an event about a…what is that? The Festival of Legends?”

“Yeah, my friend Josie and I went,” I explain, leaving out the part about meeting a psychic and buying a love potion.

“Try to post something original every few days, and repost several news stories each day,” he instructs before placing another kiss on my cheek.

And that’s how the next hour goes while I sit on my professor’s lap and he shows me the ins and outs of social media, while continuing to shower me with sweet kisses. The only reason our private lesson had to stop is because he had a faculty meeting to get to.

“So will you come back tomorrow?” he asks as I go to the door and start gathering my discarded textbooks and notebooks from where he attacked me earlier.

“Um, sure. Nine?” I ask. “Unless you want to come over, you know, tonight?” I throw the invitation out there, hoping he’ll take me up on it. Time’s running out. Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so we’ll only have five days to seal the deal.

“Sorry, Reagan. I would love to, but that’s too risky as long as you’re my student. We should probably keep our visits strictly here on campus.”

“Right,” I say, my shoulders slumping in discouragement. Gage may be willing to have oral sex in his office, but I get the feeling that he’s not gonna take my virginity here.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. In just a few weeks you’ll graduate, and then we can figure things out for the future,” he says, obviously reading my depression. “I mean, if you still want me to come over then, that is.” Clearing his throat, he shoves his hands in his pants pockets and lowers his eyes like he’s suddenly shy. Does he think I wouldn’t want to?

“Of course I want to keep seeing you,” I tell him.

“Oh, well good,” he says on an exhale. “What exactly are your plans after graduation?”

“I’ll probably stay around here, you know, close to my mom.”

“What about your dad?” he asks.

“Oh, well, he died thirteen years ago,” I explain, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“I’m so sorry, Reagan.”

“It’s okay. What about you? Are your parents close by?”

“No, they’re in Maryland. This place was the only job offer I got seven years ago, so here I am. Trish and I bought a house and moved down…I’m not sure why she hasn’t moved back to her family.”

“Because you’re here,” I say without thinking.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “She knows it’s over, and there’s no going back. Maybe after the divorce is official, she’ll give up and finally go home.”

“So you were married for…”

“Seven and a half years,” he replies, followed by a chuckle. “I can’t believe I endured for that long. Actually, if I had listened to my gut the weeks leading up to our wedding and even the morning of, I would’ve never married her. I think I was just expecting things to get easier, better with time, but it only got worse. It took me years to get the courage up to tell her I wanted out.”

“When did that happen?” I ask.

“Last October. One day I came home and just couldn’t stand to look at her. I realized that she was the reason I took a boring teaching position in the first place, because it paid more and she didn’t want me traveling around as a reporter. Her wants and needs were all that mattered in our relationship, and I was so tired of it. We had stopped sleeping in the same bed weeks before I filed for divorce because I had no desire to….Anyway, I better get going,” he said, throwing his bag over his shoulder and leading the way to the door.

“See you tomorrow,” he says with a quick kiss on my lips, and then he’s gone.

Reagan

“So, how’s Operation Nail the Professor going?” Josie asks when she opens her front door for me later that afternoon. “Holy shit! You look like a stripper and vaguely like you got fucked.”

“Oral sex only,” I tell her with a sigh before sinking down into the sofa. “It’s so hard, Josie. Why won’t he just screw my brains out already?”

“It’s been what, three days? You’ve still got plenty of time.”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. He doesn’t want to come to my place until I’m no longer his student, and I don’t think he’s gonna pop my cherry on the desk in his office. Can’t say that’s the way I’ve ever pictured it going anyway.”

“So just go to his house.”

“You can’t be serious. What if he gets angry or…or if someone sees me?”

“Go in disguise. Slutty student is probably not the best idea. Try a trench coat with nothing on underneath and some sunglasses. Maybe dye your hair?” she says, plopping down on the seat next to me.

“Huh?” I ask, leaning my head back on the arm. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yes, but that’s what it’s gonna take to make this happen – hard work! Lawson and I are depending on you getting it in!”

“I know,” I groan. “Just give me another day or so. And if he doesn’t cave, ugh, I guess I won’t have a choice.”

“No, this can’t wait!” she exclaims. “You need to be more aggressive, keep the momentum going full speed toward happily ever after.”

“You really think I should show up at his house?”

“Yes. Just not like that.”

“But don’t I need to look as sexy as possible to seduce him? This could be my chance if I show up and catch him off guard.”

“True. Go the trench coat route with those sexy, lacy lavender hose and garters you bought last night underneath.”

“Fine,” I groan. “I’m just so nervous and don’t really know what to expect for the first time.”

Josie winces, telling me it’s gonna be awful. “It doesn’t feel great. But if he gets you good and ready, it won’t be too bad. It’ll just…sting a little.”

“No matter how bad it is, once it’s done we can be together and not worry about anything else at least.”

“That’s true, and I will be so freakin’ relieved,” she says.

“All right. Well, I better go get ready,” I tell her, getting to my feet to leave.

“Good luck and call me afterward!” she says when she walks me out.

“I will,” I assure her. “But it may not be until the morning!”

…

Once it’s good and dark, I drive over to Gage’s house, the address of which I had found on my handy new cell phone. I’ve also been keeping up with all my social media profiles on it, which makes me realize exactly what all the fuss is about.

Even though I’m barely wearing anything underneath my long, black dress coat, I’m all sweaty and nervous, my teeth nearly chattering. It’s my own fault for building up the night I lose my virginity. If I had just lost it when I was a teenager, it wouldn’t have been this big of a deal. But now, well, I want it to be great. As long as it’s with Gage, I know I’ll never forget it. All the years waiting will be worth it to share the moment with someone I love, or will eventually love.

Taking the last turn onto Cornwallis, Gage’s road, I start looking for address numbers on the houses, trying to figure out if his is on the left or right. The right side of the road has even house numbers, so I start slowing down looking for 2246.

I don’t know what kind of car Gage drives, but I doubt it’s the flirty looking red, two-seater convertible parked in the driveway. Creeping up behind it until I come to a stop, I put my Prius in park and glance toward the house, which has huge floor-to-ceiling windows, making it easy to peer inside and eavesdrop.

Gage is definitely home, standing with his hands on his hips, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid sleep pants. He’s so yummy, except…there’s a bitchy redhead in there with him.

I thought he said they were divorced, or on the way to getting divorced. Why is she here? Does she still live here? What if he still cares about her? If he didn’t, wouldn’t he tell her to just leave already? He doesn’t while I watch. In fact, she lunges for Gage, plastering her tall, model perfect body against him as her mouth claims his in a passionate kiss. He doesn’t pull away while she continues pawing at him for several long, painful heartbeats.

When her hand cups the front of his pants, I can’t take anymore. My chest feels like it’s ripping in half, tearing me apart from the inside out. A sob escapes as I hit the accelerator with tears dangerously blurring my vision, but I have to get away.

Is she the reason why he insisted that we “keep our visits strictly on campus”? So his
wife
wouldn’t find out about us?

Showing up at his house was a horrible idea, but at least now I know the truth. This whole week has been incredibly humiliating as I threw myself at Gage like a slutty little homewrecker. I was obviously wrong about him because if I’m nothing more than his dirty secret on the side, then the two of us are just not meant to be together. 

…

Gage

My head feels like it’s gonna explode if I have to stand here and put up with another minute of her nagging. The same shit she’s been saying for months:
Are you really gonna just give up on us? I thought you loved me. Don’t I mean anything to you?

Yes, nope and nope are still my responses, ones that she doesn’t want to hear but, yeah, I keep repeating hoping Trish will get the hint and give up.

“Why don’t you just move back home with your parents?” I ask after she bitches about her tiny apartment across town that doesn’t have room for all her clothing.

“I’m almost thirty-six! I can’t move back in with my parents!”

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to do the unthinkable and get a fucking job,” I tell her, refusing to budge from the middle of the hallway because I don’t want her to think I’m offering to let her stay or hang out.

“What’s gotten into you? You’ve never talked to me that way before, but I forgive you. Let’s just start over, okay? I can make you happy,” she rambles before suddenly throwing herself at me.

Apparently as a last ditch effort, she slants her lips over mine and kisses me, nearly choking me with her tongue plunging down my throat in a move I assume she thinks is seductive. While I want nothing more than to push her off of me, I stand there, refusing to kiss her back until she realizes that there’s nothing going on here. Just her tongue repeatedly jabbing down my throat, which is only slightly less revolting than having a tonsillectomy without anesthesia. There’s not an ounce of heat, or passion growing between us, unlike what I feel just looking at Reagan or thinking about her, so maybe, this time, Trish will actually realize it herself. 

Unfortunately, Trish doesn’t seem to be comprehending any of this. So when her hand reaches for the front of my pajama bottoms I let her feel just how soft and unaffected I am before I do finally grab her shoulders and push her away. At the same time, I take a step back, putting distance between us.

“Trish, I’m not sure how many other ways I can tell you that I don’t want you in any way but
out
of my life, which means stop coming by, stop calling, and for fuck’s sake, quit calling my parents and whining to them! The divorce will be finalized in just four or five more months, but for all practical purposes you can consider us done and leave me the hell alone!”

“I’m not stupid; I know there’s someone else!” she counters as her shoulders slump in disappointment.

“Get out,” I say through clenched teeth.

“There is, isn’t there? That girl, the hippie from the hospital.”

“For the last time, I never cheated on you, and I haven’t been with anyone since we separated. But if I decide to start dating someone, it’s none of your fucking business. Now get out of my house!”

“It’s half my house too,” she replies.

“Not unless the court says so. Until then, you can keep living in the apartment that
I’m
paying for, and shut the fuck up about it!”

The truth is I don’t care about the house or want to keep it. It’s a convenient location to the campus, but I could pack up and leave it behind tomorrow if I have to. I’m just not willing to concede it to her until the end of the school year. During the summer, I’ll have time to get it all sorted out, especially since I may not even be in the state if I get one of the reporting assignments I applied for.

My plan had been to get away from Trish, the divorce, and from the memory of Reagan, knowing I would have to stop thinking about her after graduation. But now…now I’m not sure what’s gonna happen with her. Does she seriously want to keep seeing me? I’ll have a hard time believing that until she graduates. After that, if she still shows me that she wants more, then I’ll definitely do whatever it takes to make that happen.

…

The next morning I can’t get out of the house fast enough, in a hurry to see Reagan before my ten o’clock class. When I get there a few minutes before nine, I open up my laptop to check up on her social media. She’s been a busy girl.

Last night she posted several things, oddly enough about marriage, cheaters, and Lorena Bobbitt, of all things. Huh. But at least she did add a few original photos of the campus, which I click on to give a like while I continue to wait for her to show up.

At nine-thirty I give up, assuming she’s not coming. Angry that I was so excited to see her and she bailed, I send a message to her Facebook page asking where she is, but she doesn’t respond before I have to leave for class.

My thoughts were distracted the whole time, wondering what’s going on with Reagan and when I’ll get to see her again since she didn’t show up in her usual meditation spot underneath the tree. Surely she’ll be in class tomorrow, but I don’t want to wait that long. Of course I know where her apartment is, but I can’t just show up there while she’s still my student. The only thing that gets me through the day is waiting for her to respond to my message on her page, which never comes before I fall asleep after midnight.

…

Reagan

Walking into Gage’s class, I nearly growl out in outrage when I see Hannah flirting with him, practically shoving her tits in his face. Ugh. I’m only here because I need to pass this class to graduate. My other two classes, advanced photojournalism and the independent study course on career management, are both going great, easy As, unlike this social media bullshit one with Professor Cheater.

“Reagan,” Gage calls out to my back as I make my way up the stairs to my usual seat. I don’t turn around, afraid to face him and say all the hateful things I want to say in front of a room full of his students.

“Yes, sir?” I ask from across the room after I sit down, making it clear to him that he’ll have to say whatever he wants to say in front of everyone.

Instead, he comes toward me, the creasing of his forehead conveying his confusion at my attitude.

“Where were you yesterday?” he asks, leaning down to clutch the edges of my desktop in his hands, making me think of all sorts of inappropriate things, like the way he would grab my hips that way when we were together… “Reagan?” he prompts when I remain silent.

“Busy,” I say, avoiding his sapphire eyes and instead focusing on the buttons of his light blue dress shirt and navy blue suspenders. It sucks that I never got to see him completely naked.

“Too busy to try and salvage a passing grade so you can graduate?” he grates out softly between his teeth.

“I’ve decided to take a more…indirect approach,” I say, code for I’m not touching him again, even if I want to so badly that my hands are grasping fistfuls of my long, burgundy dress to keep from doing just that.

“Why didn’t you let me know that yesterday? I sent you a message, and you never responded.”

“You did?” I ask in surprise, making the mistake of looking up into his eyes. And they seem honest. Well, too bad they weren’t honest about his wife.

“What’s going on, Reagan? Talk to me,” he says before he closes his eyes and shakes his head. Turning around to head back to the front of the class, he adds, “Not right now but after class.”

“No,” I say to his back, causing his feet to freeze. He doesn’t respond, just moves to the podium and starts the lecture. The whole class period I keep my head bowed, taking notes without looking at him. Today’s the last class before the final exam and projects are due next Thursday.

Giving up on him, on us, is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Not only do I feel miserable about the thought of being lonely, but I worry about what Josie will say when I don’t fulfill my responsibility for the love potion. She and Lawson are solid together, so I just don’t see that falling apart because I can’t make a man sleep with me.

The longest hour of my life is physically painful until Gage finally dismisses class. I wait until one of the other girls has his attention before I try to sneak past. Unfortunately, he stops me.

“Reagan, wait!” he calls out. “See me during office hours,” he tells the girl. She hurries around me to leave the room and he grabs my elbow to stop me from doing the same.